Matter of Perspective
by skyjadeprincess
Summary: Tony DiNozzo has a fan, who is willing to express his admiration in any way *possible*.
1. Chapter 1

"And I say, hey hey hey hey I said hey, what's going on?"

I know my voice was off key, but I didn't give a shit.

Ah, 4 non blondes. They were such a highly underrated group.  
>It's too bad they only had one hit. "What's up" was one of my favorite songs. If nothing else, it helped me pass the time. I nodded my head to the music, tapping my steering wheel in rhythm. It was already dark.<p>

Since I was heading deep into the countryside, no one else was around. There were no streetlights. I haven't seen another car for hours.

Which was fine by me.

The less witnesses, the better.

"...I pray every single day For a revolution!..." Linda Perry was singing.

The roads were a little slippery, but my SUV could handle it.

I frowned a little when the song ended. But that didn't bother me.  
>I casually pressed the rewind button so I could start the song all over again.<p>

Sadly, before I could get a good rhythm going, my destination loomed into view. I let out a sad sigh as I parked in front of the log-style cabin. "Until next time, Linda Perry. Until next time." I muttered as I got out of the SUV.

I unlocked one of the back doors and grabbed several plastic bags.

I whistled my favorite TV theme song as I pressed the fob to lock all the doors. Ah, Andy Griffith. Definitely an underrated actor. I made a mental note to tape the marathon that was running on TV Land all weekend. I loved that show.

When they stopped filming, it really pissed me off.

I swung my shopping bags, feeling like a kid in a candy store.

I all but skipped to the front door. Making sure no one was watching,  
>I carefully unlocked the front door and headed inside. I quickly locked the door after me. It was cold inside, but that didn't bother me. The cold never did.<p>

The cold and I have always been kindred spirits.

One of very few that I regarded as an equal.

I turned on the lights. I entered the kitchen and pulled my favorite wine out of the fridge. I poured myself a glass and returned to the living room.

Carefully, I threw open the persian carpet.

Revealing a carefully hidden trap door.

It was a bit of a balancing act, juggling my bags and my wineglass as I carefully descended the stairs into the basement. But I managed it with practiced ease as I've done this plenty of times before. The entire basement was soundproof.

I couldn't take the chance of people hearing things they shouldn't.

I headed towards a wall and removed a bland painting of flowers.

Revealing a keypad.

I quickly punched in a bunch of numbers.

A panel slid aside, revealing a room that was barely bigger than a storage unit. If I was claustrophobic, it would drive me crazy. I was still whistling as I entered the room, the panel sliding shut behind me. I gazed with clinical detachment towards the corner. He was barely conscious, his hands tied over his head.

His bonds were attached to a chain which was attached to the ceiling.

His ankles were secured by chains that were used on convicts.

I made sure he was gagged. There was no sense in letting the little shit scream for help after all. One of his eyes were swollen shut. There was a bruise the size of a walnut on his forehead. One of his shoulders had been dislocated.

My keen eye could make out several fractures in his left leg.

He was covered in welts and bruises.

I still whistled as I placed the plastic bags onto a nearby table. He watched me with wary eyes, not unlike a cornered animal would a predator. I gave him a sneer. He was so weak. So pathetic in every sense of the word. I hated that I had to waste my precious time on someone that barely rated above an insect.

But it was the only way to get my message across.

While I wished I could kill him, I needed him alive.

For now.

The fact that I could eventually squash him like an insect was my only bright side. I repeated this mantra several times in my head as I reached into a plastic bag.

It was a Polaroid camera.

Shame these went out of style.

You know, it was one of those old-fashioned cameras where you took a picture and it came out of the camera like paper from a printer. You wave the photo a few times to clear it up and you eventually get a clear picture. I love these cameras.

Made things so much easier.

I carefully put down my wineglass and got my camera ready.

"Okay, Tiny Tim!" I said cheerfully. "Say cheese!"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I'm revising the story, since I didn't like the direction it was going in.

Trent Kort grunted as he hit the the floor, clutching his bloodied nose.

This was the result of a vicious right hook courtesy of an enraged Tony DiNozzo.

DiNozzo would've gone for another blow, if he wasn't (barely) being held back by Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Tobias Fornell. Ron Sacks had to step in to hold the enraged senior agent in place. DiNozzo snarled as he struggled against them.

"Let me at him, Boss!" DiNozzo yelled. "I haven't finished teaching the bastard a lesson yet!" DiNozzo was too pissed to maintain his usual cocky facade.

It'd been a struggle to control his temper.

Kort's little comment broke his control and sent him over the edge.

DiNozzo was a ticking time bomb ever since they returned from vacation.  
>Leon Vance, director of NCIS, gave Team Gibbs a week's vacation after they spent nearly a month working back to back cases. The whole thing was almost funny, really.<p>

DiNozzo had a good time in Cabo St. Lucas.

Their first day back was supposed to be easy.

They were supposed to be working on cold cases and Balboa's team was going to be on the roster. Today was supposed to be relaxing and, well, practically boring.

All of that changed when DiNozzo retrieved his mail from the post office.

Kort slowly got to his feet, glaring at DiNozzo as he got a tissue from his pocket and pressed it to his nose. Normally, he would utter another smart-ass comment.

But something told him not to push his luck.

Snorting in disgust-wincing as that hurt his nose-Kort went to the men's room.

Gibbs tersely ordered his agent to take a few minutes outside to cool off.  
>DiNozzo nodded and stormed out of the bullpen, clenching and unclenching his fists.<p>

While he regretted losing his cool, he couldn't bring himself to mourn Kort's predicament. DiNozzo emerged outside ten minutes later, not even feeling the cold.

He was too angry and distracted to care.

He paced back and forth like an angry tiger in a cage.

It all started this morning, after he got his mail and returned to his apartment. On the way home, DiNozzo fiddled with the radio dial, trying to find a song he liked. For some reason, he felt an eerie tingle go up and down his spine when he heard "What's up" from the group, 4 Non Blondes on some oldies station he couldn't recall.

DiNozzo made it back to his apartment building without fanfare.

A few minutes later, he was in his living room, sorting through his mail.

There were the usual bills and magazines he subscribed to. Then he spotted a manila envelope, with only his address written across its face. While DiNozzo didn't have his boss's infamous "gut", he wasn't stupid either. He carefully put the envelope down. He contacted his boss, who was thankfully back from his trip to Mexico.

Gibbs told him to carefully bag the evidence and head for NCIS.

Gibbs quickly contacted Ellie Bishop, a member of their team. He'd tried to contact the other member of their team, but for some reason, he wasn't answering his phone. Gibbs felt the churning in his gut increase. He had a bad feeling about this.

As usual, he would be right.

As for Ellie, she was thankfully back from her trip to London. Gibbs drove to NCIS headquarters even beyond his usual reckless speeds. It was only due to a miracle that he didn't cause an accident or get pulled over for a ticket. He didn't care.

His gut continued to churn.

He couldn't shake the feeling that his missing agent was in danger.

Gibbs quickly updated Vance.

Meanwhile, the envelope and its contents were carefully examined by Abby Sciuto, their forensic scientist. Gibbs was just finishing his explanations to Vance when he was phoned by a tearful, hysterical Abby. He couldn't get her to calm down.

Gibbs had to see her in person in her lab.

Abby couldn't calm down enough to explain.

She just gave a series of hiccupping sobs before she pointed at the contents of the manila envelope with a shaking hand. Somehow, Gibbs wasn't surprised at what the envelope contained. Grimly, Gibbs phoned DiNozzo and told him to come to the lab.

The group was soon joined by Tobias Fornell and Ron Sacks.

Both were FBI agents.

Vance contacted them. In the case of a kidnapped federal agent, the FBI had jurisdiction. DiNozzo was especially pissed off. Admittedly, he had good reason to be.

Since everything was specifically addressed to him.

The letter had been disturbing enough.

It wasn't handwritten or typed. Instead, the sender carefully cut out letters from newspapers and glued them to a white piece of paper. There was no signature.

The letter simply read, "Merry Christmas, Tony".

The envelope also contained photographs.

Disturbing photographs.

Photos which made Tony want to punch a wall.

The photos featured Timothy McGee, the last member of Team Gibbs. He was the computer expert of their group. In what seemed like a progression, the injuries he suffered got worse as they went from photo to photo. Abby was working with Ruby Denton, the FBI's forensic scientist, to carefully examine the letter, photos and envelope. Fornell already sent a couple of agents to investigate McGee's apartment.

There had been nothing.

The evidence suggested McGee never made it home after their shift ended more than a week ago.

His apartment was covered in a layer of dust. None of his clothes and toiletries were missing and his luggage was still in his closet. The implications were obvious:

He'd been abducted elsewhere.

His phone rang, jolting him from his reverie.

"DiNozzo."

"DiNozzo, get back upstairs." Gibbs said gruffly. "A pair of LEOs found McGee's car at a Burger King near Dulles International Airport. Fornell and Sacks will meet us there."

"I'll be there, Boss." DiNozzo promised.

DiNozzo jogged back inside and joined his boss in the bullpen.

On the way to the Burger King, DiNozzo remained lost in thought. Kort was an asshole with a dubious reputation who worked for the CIA. He wasn't at NCIS because of McGee's kidnapping. His presence was a coincidence as the CIA sent him to NCIS to work as a liaison on another case. Unfortunately, Kort had heard more than he should.

And let's just say he wasn't complimentary towards Gibbs' "baby agent".

DiNozzo was already pissed off over what was happening to McGee.

Needless to say, Kort picked the wrong moment to make disparaging remarks about DiNozzo's partner. DiNozzo smirked in grim satisfaction. He hoped Kort's new shiner would *convince* him not to be so *rude* in the future. He had to admit, the punch felt *good*.

DiNozzo was jolted from his reverie when Gibbs' Charger pulled to a stop.

They were at the Burger King. Hopefully, they would find something.

DiNozzo's internal clock warned him that time was running out.

* * *

><p>I was in a bad mood as I drove back to the cabin.<p>

It was just like Tiny Tim to ruin everything.

Fortunately, I brought a handy-dandy "stress reliever" in my duffle bag. While I try not to let my baser emotions get the better of me, there are times, however few that I succumb to _weakness_.

The only bright side is that I'm doing this without witnesses.

With the exception, of course, of Tiny Tim.

Not even my favorite song could calm me down. Which was yet another thing to blame the little shithead for.

It was just like him to be so _incompetent_.

So...ineffectual.

Finally, the cabin loomed into view. I parked, grabbed my duffle bag and exited the SUV. I pressed the fob to lock the doors and jogged to the front door. As always, I carefully peeked over my shoulder, making sure no one was looking as I unlocked it.

Once it was open, I quickly darted inside.

I locked the door after me.

By now, Tiny Tim should still be unconscious. I'd drugged his food and moved him while he was asleep. I glanced at my watch. I had about a half hour before he woke up.

Which gave me plenty of time to get things ready.

I kicked aside the persian carpet and jerked open the trapdoor.

I headed downstairs, removed the flower picture and inputted a new number in the keypad. Unlike other people, I am a genius. I always make sure to change the combination.

The panel slid aside and I quickly hurried in.

Sure enough, Tiny Tim was unconscious.

He was hanging from the ceiling. He was bound in a pair of manacles that were attached to a chain, which in turn, was secured to the ceiling. His ankles were equally bound. I wanted to limit his movements so he couldn't kick me.

I put the duffle bag on the table and opened it.

I pulled out some grey sweats and some other objects.

The boombox was resting on a TV tray in another corner. I'm a firm believer in using stuff from the good ol' days.

I have no liking or patience for the digital shit hitting the markets nowadays.

I changed after neatly folding my clothing and setting the articles aside, so they wouldn't get stained.

I glanced at Tiny Tim.

He was starting to stir.

I headed for the boombox and put a tape inside. This song always helped me "get in the zone", so to speak.

Tiny Tim grew more and more awake as the effects of the drug wore off.

I walked to the first table and grabbed a pair of boxing gloves.

By now, Tiny Tim was fully awake and I relished in the dawning horror in his eyes. He reminded me of a weak little deer, standing stark still as a pair of headlights washed over it.

Or a lost little newborn lamb, stumbling in the darkness.

I returned to the boombox and pressed the play button. The song was "Gonna Fly Now" from the movie, "Rocky".

I put on the boxing gloves and got to work.

I couldn't help myself.

I felt like a kid in a candy store as I let loose. Tiny Tim's gag has long since been removed since I wanted to hear him scream.

And scream he did.

Man, what a pussy.

He screamed and screamed like a stuck pig as I wailed on him. I relished in each punch and kick I gave him. Tears poured like rivers down his cheeks.

I could hear sickening snaps fill the air as I punched his stomach.

I knew some of his ribs were broken.

While the song was short, it was also on a loop. So Tiny Tim was out of luck as I continued to "relieve my frustrations", so to speak.

I repeatedly kicked his left leg.

Grinning sadistically as I "gifted" him with more fractures.

I really felt like Rocky Balboa. I pictured myself in the ring, going against the likes of Apollo Creed.

The only downside was that Tiny Tim didn't deserve the honor of being Apollo Creed. He was too weak to get such an appellation.

I galloped around him until I could see his back.

His screams increased in volume as I wailed on him good in and around his spine.

He began to beg for me to stop. But I was fresh out of mercy as I continued to jab and kick. Not that I had any mercy to begin with.

Mercy was reserved for weaklings.

Finally, I was spent.

I walked to the table and grabbed a towel. I wiped the sweat from my face and opened a water bottle. As I sipped, I glanced at Tiny Tim.

He was a hanging mass of bruises, welts and fractures.

I grabbed my Polaroid and took several shots for good measure.

There was no sense in wasting an opportunity and I know HE would want more pictures. I hope he liked the ones I sent him.

It *was* the Christmas season after all.


	3. Chapter 3

The bastard left him dangling.

Tim could still hear the sadistic laughter filling the air until he was finally left alone.

He hurt.

Oh God, did he hurt.

His entire body felt like one big, massive bruise. Tim knew his left leg was a mess. It hurt to breathe. Everytime he inhaled, pain would shoot from his fractured ribs.

And God only knew what his back looked like.

However, everytime he moved, pain would go up and down his spine.

Tim never really hated anyone before. He didn't believe in hatred. Unlike his cynical boss and teammates, he didn't think revenge was the answer.

He was a firm believer in the system, even after all he'd witnessed in his years of being a federal agent.

Not that Gibbs let him do much out in the field.

Tim was far used to handling the technological side of things at his desk.

Or in helping Abby in her lab.

In any event, Tim never hated anyone.

In his defense, he never had cause to despise a person to that degree. He knew he was far less experienced than his colleagues.

Nothing really happened to him...for the most part. No, no, NO! No thinking of THAT again. Ahem, he took a deep, calming breath and mentally moved on.

That changed when he was kidnapped after he left NCIS to pack for his vacation.

He was going to Los Angeles to attend a writer's convention. He wrote crime novels under the pseudonym, Thom E. Gemcity.

Truth be told, Tim felt ashamed.

It shouldn't have been so easy for that asshole to get the drop on him.

Gibbs would definitely be disappointed in him. DiNozzo would tease him goodnaturedly, crowing that the "probie" needed to be more vigilant. Of course, Tim knew that DiNozzo didn't mean anything with his taunts and playful nicknames.

They were DiNozzo's way of displaying his affection for his surrogate younger brother.

Tim had parked his car at his apartment building.

He was heading for the front entrance when he was grabbed from behind.

Unfortunately, there were no witnesses and this was taking place where the surveillance cameras couldn't pick up anything.

He was dragged to a nearby alleyway.

He kicked and struggled, but to no avail.

Then his assailant pressed a gag over his mouth and nose. Tim could smell the chloroform and tried not to inhale.

He failed.

The next thing he knew, he was losing consciousness.

When he came to, he was sitting in the corner of a cold room. It was tiny and cramped. His arms were secured over his head and his feet were bound as well.

He'd also been gagged.

He was only wearing his boxers.

Tim didn't know how much time passed in that room. But for him, it might as well have been years instead of days.

He'd never experienced such hellish pain and torture before.

Not even when Saleem kicked the shit out of him in Somalia.

Everytime his kidnapper came back, he was brutally beaten. And his injuries were so "lovingly" documented, thanks to those thrice-damned Polaroids.

As if the asshole wanted to make a photo album or something.

At first, Tim held out hope that he would be rescued.

Gibbs came through for his team so many times when they were in trouble. The former Marine was like a dog with a bone whenever a member of his team stumbled into danger.

His hope made it easier for him to withstand the cruel taunts and insults.

However, as time passed and nothing happened, the hope began to fade.

Tim had to keep on reminding himself that his teammates were on vacation. That they didn't know something happened to him.

However, it was hard to keep up that reasoning.

He began to believe otherwise.

After all, there were times that Gibbs sensed DiNozzo, Abby and Ziva David-back when she was a member of the team-were in trouble. His boss had that infamous "gut" after all.

And would react accordingly.

So why wasn't his boss reacting to his "gut" as far as HE was concerned?

Then again, a growing, cynical voice in his mind would state, Gibbs has shown an appalling lack of concern for his wellbeing before.

Like when he wouldn't send him to the hospital after Jethro the dog bit him.

Or when he was sent into redtagged water to fetch a clue.

Tim's well of optimism began to dry up like water in the Sahara desert. Why wasn't anyone coming to rescue him?

Didn't he matter?

Wasn't he a member of Gibbs' team as well?

Tim couldn't help growing angry and bitter as time passed. He was starting to believe that he was on his own.

That no one gave a shit about him.

While the rational part of his mind tried to remind him that his team couldn't possibly know he was in danger thanks to their leave, the other part was telling his rational side to take a flying leap off the nearest cliff.

Who could keep their reason and logic going, when one was being beaten and tortured?

It just didn't work that way.

Tim was discovering new sides of himself.

He wasn't yet at the stage where he hated his team. They'd been through too much together for that.

However, he DID despise his kidnapper.

He hated the bastard with a passion.

To keep himself going, Tim would imagine different scenarios in which he would kill the son of a bitch. It wasn't healthy, he knew.

But those increasingly sadistic fantasies gave him the strength to keep going.

And kept other horrific memories at bay.

Now was not the time to think about THAT. It was difficult. Tim wasn't stupid. He could see the contempt in his kidnapper's eyes.

Those eyes that dismissed him as pathetic and weak.

Just like THAT man...

No, no, Tim! Stop it! He sternly ordered himself. He refused to go on _that_ particular trip down memory lane.

He had to focus on getting the hell out of here.

And he would.

This wouldn't bring him down. Tim has been underestimated his entire life and he has proved his naysayers wrong.

His kidnapper would rue the day they were born.

He swore it.


	4. Chapter 4

The ride to NCIS was tense.

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

Neither Sarah McGee nor Penny Langston felt like saying a word. They were scared, angry and worried at the same time.

Penny stopped at a light and glanced at her granddaughter out of the corner of her eye.

The past week has not been good for the McGee family.

John McGee, her son, was an admiral in the Navy. Until he got cancer, he was on the fast track of joining the Cabinet.

His chemo treatments failed.

His cancer was too advanced for surgery and he suddenly took a turn for the worse.

He could die at any moment.

Sarah wanted to get the whole family together so they could say goodbye.

Unfortunately, things remained strained between John and Tim, her grandson and Sarah's older brother.

Despite Tim's best efforts, all they did was argue.

John felt that Tim was "wasting his talents" being a naval cop.

He still wanted Tim to join the Navy as it was family tradition. However, this was impossible for Tim, due to his seasickness and allergies.

Sarah was furious with her brother.

She couldn't believe that he would take off for LA when their father was dying.

She left numerous messages on his cell phone, but he never answered, much less returned her calls.

Sarah assumed Tim's stubborn nature was kicking in.

And he wasn't answering out of spite.

Today he was supposed to return from LA. Sarah didn't want to waste another minute. Their first stop was Tim's apartment.

Sarah was bristling with impatience on the way to his building.

She barely waited for Penny to park her new Toyota Camry.

Normally, you had to be buzzed in. Fortunately, Sarah spotted a pair of fairly cute college students. She flirted with them, using her charm and beauty to win them over.

So it wasn't difficult to find their way inside.

Sarah was glancing at her watch and tapping her foot, muttering under her breath as the elevator slowly but surely made its way to Tim's floor.

Finally, it arrived at their destination.

Sarah barely waited for the doors to ding open.

She ran to Tim's apartment and started banging on the door. She began shouting for her brother to "get off his lazy ass and answer the fucking door before she broke it down".

But there was no response.

Frustrated, Sarah tried the doorknob.

It was locked.

Sarah's own stubborn nature reared its ugly head.

She continued to bang and shout until Tim's neighbors called the landlord to complain about the noise.

Mrs. Miller came to confront her.

After a loud argument, Mrs. Miller finally relented and used her key to open the door.

Sarah charged inside, ready to give her recalcitrant brother a piece of her mind.

All three women froze once they entered his living room.

While nothing was amiss, they had a bad feeling. Penny was especially alarmed at the layers of dust coating everything.

Tim was a neat freak and would NEVER leave his apartment in such a state.

A quick search revealed his clothes and luggage were still in his closet.

Alarmed, Sarah and Penny jogged back to her car. Their next stop was NCIS headquarters.

They hoped against hope that Tim was okay.

The light turned green and Penny resumed driving.

For Penny, it was an eerie sense of deja vu. She hoped against hope that her premonitions were wrong.

That her grandson was okay.

They finally reached NCIS headquarters.

It took a bit to park, get registered and receive visitor's passes. The security guard took them directly to Vance's office.

Which gave Penny a REALLY bad feeling.

Pamela Cook, Vance's assistant, directed them inside.

They were stiff and tense in their seats as they waited for Vance. It took a seemingly long time for him to join them.

In reality, it was only a few minutes.

"I'm sorry I kept you two waiting." Vance began as he sat at his desk. "I was at a meeting."

"It's okay, Director." Penny said. "We've only just arrived."

"Where is Tim?" Sarah demanded. "Is he okay? Why hasn't he been answering my calls? What's going on? I need to see him and-"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, Miss McGee." Vance cut in, opening a silver box so he could grab a toothpick.

"Bad news?" Sarah repeated.

"I'm afraid Agent McGee has been kidnapped." Vance said.

Both women were stunned into silence.

Against his better judgment, Vance found himself going into more detail than he would've liked. He didn't show them the letter or photos detailing Tim's injuries.

However, he did admit the computer expert was being beaten and tortured.

Penny muttered something under her breath.

It wouldn't be until much later that Vance would be able to recall what she said:

"Not again."


	5. Chapter 5

Given DiNozzo's mood, one would think the agents were there to protect Niles Levinson and his..._friend_, not arrest them.

Everyone present was giving DiNozzo weary glances as he bagged and tagged evidence alongside Bishop and Sacks.

Levinson was the manager of the rundown Burger King where McGee's new Toyota Prius was found. He was a greasy, disgusting bastard with dirty clothes, beedy little eyes and thinning dark hair.

He didn't bother to call the police to report the car.

Even though it was in his parking lot for more than a week.

Instead, the douchebag was trying to sell it. If it wasn't for an employee with a conscience, they never would've found McGee's car.

Levinson was acting like his favorite toy had been taken away.

In other words, he was sulking, with a pout marring his ugly features.

He was sitting on a concrete curb with his hands secured behind his back. His customer, Ray Fredrickson, was also being arrested as he had no qualms buying a stolen vehicle.

When DiNozzo discovered the "transaction" taking place, he just lost it.

Which would explain Levinson's collection of bruises and scrapes.

Even worse, Levinson had already broken into McGee's car. He and his friend were already pawing all over the Prius before they could stop them.

It was highly likely Levinson had been in the Prius multiple times.

Which meant valuable forensic evidence was lost.

More bad news kept coming. Levinson admitted he found McGee's badge, phone and wallet in the car. He'd stolen McGee's money and acted like a kid in a candy store with his charge cards.

The phone was already sold.

He was drunk the night he sold it and he couldn't remember his customer.

Gibbs was the one who called for backup. However, everyone knew the extra agents were there to guard Levinson and Fredrickson.

And to protect them from DiNozzo.

Even DiNozzo knew he was a ticking time bomb.

However, they couldn't give up now. Even though it was highly unlikely they would find anything, the Prius would be towed back to NCIS.

Abby was already trying to track down McGee's cell phone.

Gibbs was busy interviewing the employee, Audrey Whitman, who called the police to report the car.

Every now and then, he would glance at his senior agent out of the corner of his eye.

He knew he had to keep an eye on DiNozzo.

Most people only saw DiNozzo's cocky facade and pranking tendencies.

Very few bothered to look beyond the surface. DiNozzo was a good, loyal agent who fiercely cared about his friends.

Even though it was hard to see it, DiNozzo truly cared about McGee.

He saw him as the little brother he never had.

Which meant Gibbs had to make sure DiNozzo kept his head. It was only the first day of their investigation and DiNozzo was already losing it.

The sorry states of Trent Kort and Niles Levinson was proof of that.

If DiNozzo kept this up, Vance would take him off the case.

Which would be equally disastrous. Gibbs wouldn't put it past his agent to take matters into his own hands and try to find McGee himself.

At least if DiNozzo was on the case, Gibbs could keep an eye on him.

Gibbs could sympathize with DiNozzo's anger.

Personally, he wanted to find McGee's kidnapper and tear him limb from limb. No one messed with a member of Gibbs' team and got away with it.

But they had to keep a level head.

They wouldn't do McGee any favors if they lost it.

Gibbs made a mental note to talk with his senior agent after they returned to NCIS. Hopefully, he could calm the younger agent down.

Or they would put McGee in even more danger than he already was.

* * *

><p>"YOU WON'T TELL THEM JACK SHIT!"<p>

Badly startled, Sarah jumped, accidentally dropping the coffee cups she'd been holding. She pressed a hand to her racing heart and tried to calm down.

After they left NCIS, Sarah and Penny headed for the hospital.

They were going to tell her father what happened to Tim.

Sarah knew something was up with her grandmother. She'd been tense, nervous and angry on the way to the hospital.

Penny waved off her questions, claiming she was merely worried about Tim.

Sarah knew there was something more to it than that.

She knew that Penny was hiding something. But no matter how many times Sarah poked and prodded, Penny refused to say a word.

She all but shooed Sarah out of her father's room.

Sending her to get coffee for the both of them.

Sarah didn't know how they were going to tell her father. He'd only gotten worse as his cancer progressed.

It was difficult to reconcile his current incarnation with her memories of him.

She peered around the doorway, into his room.

John McGee was different from the strong, complicated man she remembered. His features were gaunt. He was so thin, he was nearly skeletal.

He was also losing his hair.

Realizing this might be her only chance to learn their secrets, Sarah made sure she remained out of sight as she eavesdropped.

"...stake here than your damn pride!" Penny was hissing.

"This has nothing to do with Tim's kidnapping." John insisted.

"NCIS has a right to know." Penny crossed her arms over her chest. "And once they investigate Tim's background, it'll crop up sooner rather than later."

"That won't happen." John said. "I've seen to that personally many years ago."

"John." Penny tried.

"NO!" John shouted. He erupted into a series of coughs and reached weakly for a nearby cup of water. Penny rolled her eyes and gently carried the cup to his lips. She held the straw for him as he took several sips. "No." He said more quietly once his fit passed. "We vowed that wouldn't say a word. And I'm holding you to that promise."

"John, Tim's life is at stake!" Penny snapped.

"What happened in the past, has nothing to do with what is occurring now." John insisted stubbornly.

"Even now, you care more about the damn Navy than your own son." Penny said bitterly.

"Don't even go there, Mother." John warned. "I love my son. But we're not saying a word. As far as I'm concerned, it never happened!"


	6. Chapter 6

LATER THAT NIGHT...

The figure waited patiently.

The day passed at a snail's pace.

Finally, Gibbs and Fornell told their task force to get some rest and report back to NCIS in four hours.

It wasn't likely to get another chance.

The figure made sure the coast was clear as it tiptoed to NCIS's lab.

It didn't have to worry about surveillance cameras. The figure was very good with computers and made sure the tapes were on a loop.

So no one would see anything.

Luck was on its side, as no one was about.

Just to be on the safe side, the figure wore all black. Its hair was dyed, contact lenses changed the shade of their eyes and it even wore medical gloves.

It even wore a hat to shade its face.

The figure remained on high alert even as it entered the lab.

The figure reached inside the duffle bag it was carrying and removed a dustbuster.

Meticulously, the figure moved about the lab, vaccuuming the forensic evidence painstakingly collected from the Prius and McGee's apartment.

Then it dropped petri dishes onto the floor.

Carefully vaccuuming their contents.

The figure did the same to various microscopes. Then it reached inside the duffle bag and withdrew several water bottles.

The water was poured all over the computers.

Including the mass spectrometer.

Just in case NCIS went through the Prius a second time, the figure tiptoed to the garage where it was being kept.

The stupid bastards didn't even bother to lock up the doors.

Which suited the figure just fine.

The figure moved all over the Prius with a finetoothed comb. The dustbuster was used to great effect.

The figure reached inside the duffle bag and withdrew carpeting shampoo.

The car was carefully washed and vaccuumed.

Then, the figure withdrew something else and carefully secured it to the back of the rearview mirror, where it wouldn't immediately be spotted.

The object would make sure any remaining evidence was destroyed.

Just in case the figure missed something.

The figure moved about the garage and the lab, carefully gathering everything it used. Making sure nothing was left behind.

Satisfied, the person left.

* * *

><p>Abby Sciuto was mad when her Timmy had been kidnapped.<p>

But she was PISSED when she discovered the state of her lab.

She exchanged grim expressions with Ruby Denton. All of the evidence they'd carefully extracted from McGee's car had been destroyed.

The computers were blackened, smoking pieces of metal.

The Petri dishes were destroyed.

The mass spectrometer was in as sorry a state as the computers. Apparently, there was some fire. Thankfully, the overhead sprinklers doused the flames.

But the evidence was gone.

If there was anything left, it'd been compromised.

Abby knew she never should've left her lab. But Gibbs insisted. He wanted everyone fresh and ready before they tackled the case once more.

And he could see how frantic and worried Abby was.

He didn't want her emotions affecting her work or compromising McGee's safety.

Even Abby had to admit she tended to get..._excitable,_ especially when one of her friends was in danger. People she considered family.

While any romantic attachment she had towards McGee was gone, she considered him her best friend and surrogate brother.

She wanted to do her part in making sure McGee was rescued.

But she couldn't argue against Gibbs when the former Marine put his foot down.

So Abby went home. She'd barely fallen asleep when she got a call from Vance. Apparently, there had been a fire in her lab.

In HER lab!

The firefighters came and went. There was no need for their presence. The only ones that remained behind were the arson investigators.

You didn't need a rocket scientist to know the fire was set deliberately.

She wanted to go into her lab to assess the damage.

Unfortunately, the arson investigators weren't letting anyone inside. Abby managed to do a brief scan before she and Ruby were unceremoniously shunted out into the hall.

The bad news kept coming.

Not only was the forensic evidence gone, the letter and photos had been destroyed in the aftermath.

Gibbs and DiNozzo were arguing with several arson investigators outside the lab.

Both men looked pissed.

Abby was especially worried about DiNozzo. The former cop wasn't hiding behind his friendly, debonair demeanor.

Already, he was letting his anger get the better of him.

At this rate, Vance would take him off the case for sure.

Sighing, Abby motioned with her head for Ruby to join her. Abby had bad experiences in the past working with people. She winced as she remembered Chip, aka Charles Sterling, who attempted to kill her and frame DiNozzo for murder.

But she honestly liked Ruby.

She was friendly, hardworking and obviously knew her stuff.

While Abby liked Gibbs and his teammates, it was nice to work with a fellow scientist. Someone who actually knew what she was talking about.

With the exception of McGee, Gibbs and the other members of his team would give her blank looks everytime she used technical and scientific terms that admittedly went right over their heads unless she elucidated.

The women headed for the garage where McGee's car was located.

Abby decided to look for more evidence as she hated sitting around, doing nothing.

As Abby approached, she felt a curious sense of deja vu.

When did she feel this way before?

Abby paused, trying to think. Ruby stopped and gave her a curious glance, wondering why Abby had stopped.

Too late, Abby remembered an eerily similar scenario: the Harper Dearing incident.

Only this time, there was no Gibbs to quickly escort her away as the garage housing McGee's car suddenly exploded.


End file.
